The Clichéd Archives of What If's
by Mersgath
Summary: Harry Potter, the What If Archives. What if Harry or someone else had taken another action opposite to that they have done that could have changed everything to the plot, the start or the end of the story?
1. A longer Summary

**Harry Potter is an orphaned boy who lives as a servant with his abominable uncle Vernon, with his detestable aunt Petunia and with his unbearable cousin Dudley. But one day everything changes when he receives a letter informing him he is accepted in the School of Hogwarts of Magic and Wizardry. He finds out he is 'the boy who lived' and, by those who have read the last book of J. K. Rowling's works, the boy who saved the world from You-know-Who.**

**But, as other people have thought of books, movies and TV shows, what if Harry or someone else had taken another action opposite to that they have done that could have changed everything to the plot, the start or the end of the story?**

**Fanfictionists, I present you "**_**The Clichéd Archives of What If's"**_**.**

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And I warn I'm really slow updating, so I'm sorry if I take long to update the Archives, I have too many things to do...


	2. Albus' Child

Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer: **_**Harry Potter – even though I had wished I had such a great idea like this one, I need to tell the truth… – is not mine.**

_**Note from the Author: **_**The Harry Potter books I have – except the last one – are in Spanish, so the extracts aren't exactly like the real English book…**

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Professor McGonagall gave a pat on one of Hagrid's arms while Dumbledore passed over the garden's threshold and walked to the door that was in just in front. He left Harry at the door's feet, took a letter out of his cape, hid it between the sheets covering the child and then went back with the other two. For a very long minute the three of them contemplated the small vague shape. Hagrid's shoulders trembled. Professor McGonagall blinked furiously. The fluttering light that Dumbledore's eyes used to irradiate normally seemed to have abandoned.

"_Well," Dumbledore said finally, "it's done. We don't have anything else to do here. We better go and join up with the celebrations."_

"_A' right," replied Hagrid with a horse voice. "I better get rid of this motorcycle. Good night, Professor McGonagall, Professor Dumbledore."_

_Hagrid dried his tears with the sleeve of his jacket got on to the motorcycle and gave a kick to the lever to put the motor into gear. With a racket it elevated into the air and disappeared into the night._

"_We'll see each other soon, I hope, Professor McGonagall," said Dumbledore, greeting her with an inclination of the head. Professor McGonagall blew her noise in reply._

_Dumbledore turned around and walked down the road. He stopped at the corner and raised the silver Deluminator. He made it work one time and all the lights along the road turned on, making Privet Drive illuminate with an orange brilliance, and could see a cat that slipped away at a corner at the other end of the road. He could also see the lump covered in sheets at the steps of Number 4._

"_Good luck, Harry Potter," he murmured. He turned around and with a movement of his cape, he disappeared._

**Nooooo! But wait! He can't just leave the poor Harry with these people, can he? He knows very well they hate his… kind – what they like to call it, as if they were a whole different species… blah! Dumbledore can't just leave poor Harry in the cold outside at the steps of the Dursley's, can he?**

**What if… Albus Dumbledore instead of leaving Harry Potter with the Dursley's he had decided to raise him himself?**

"_We'll see each other soon, I hope, Professor McGonagall," said Dumbledore, greeting her with an inclination of the head. Professor McGonagall blew her noise in reply._

_Dumbledore turned around and walked down the road. He stopped at the corner and raised the silver Deluminator. He made it work one time and all the lights along the road turned on, making Privet Drive illuminate with an orange brilliance, and could see the lump covered in sheets at the steps of Number 4 with sad eyes. He couldn't really bring himself to leave the poor child with people who wouldn't really treat him fairly._

_Dumbledore decided. He walked to the Number 4 in Privet Drive and gently took the child in his arms. Two twinkling eyes followed his moves, as the cat had stopped and saw his move: Professor McGonagall watched attentively. Dumbledore noticed her and smiled back._

_He walked away from the muggles' home looking at the sleeping child with affection. He turned around and saw a cat slipping away at a corner at the other end of the road. He turned around and with a movement of the cape disappeared._

_**Some years later…**_

Albus Dumbledore sat down at his great chair at the Principal's room in the Hogwarts School of Magic and Wizardry. He contemplated the various portraits of the past principals of this school with admiration. Every one of them white haired wearing some type of glasses and wearing the heavy purplish clothing he usually wore. But they didn't have what he had.

A knock on the door made him stop his wonders and was more than joyful to see as the door opened the young Harry entering the room with his other friends. Harry walked up to Dumbledore, gave him an affectionate hug.

"Dad, can I go to Dean's house for Christmas?" Harry asked with a high pitched voice.

Dumbledore looked at a brown-skinned boy with curly hair and smiled at the boys. "Of course, Harry."

Harry and his friends went off and disappeared behind the closing door. Dumbledore looked at his desk. It was filled with many pictures of Harry and him, living happily together as a father and son.

He had told Harry what had happened to his parents and he had taken it in pretty well. Dumbledore could see a lot of him in Harry. Harry was growing as wise as Dumbledore. It was good, as it was training for Harry before he met up with Voldemort. All the pain Dumbledore had felt as he took care of Harry as a baby, all the bad times he has had during the time of Harry's bath when Harry tried to get away with it and started running around – and as you know, Dumbledore is now an old man – and the many times he had to get him to eat his veggies without him making a mess out of it, they were all worth it.

Harry was his only child and he loved him dearly.

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Hope you liked this first chapter! A pretty crappy start, but it's something… If Dumbledore had raised Harry himself, Harry would have been more prepared to fight Voldemort and would have been wiser than he is now… - sorry to the fans of Harry, I think he's a bit stupid… I do like him :)

**Review!**


	3. Where's Hagrid?

Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer: **_**I don't… I do not… I'm sorry… I can't say it… Harry Potter is not my property!**

_**Note from the Author: **_**The Harry Potter books I have – except the last one – are in Spanish, so the extracts aren't exactly like the real English book…**

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"_But how is the child going to get here, Dumbledore?" asked Professor McGonagall. Suddenly she observed the professor's cape, as if thinking he could have been hiding Harry under it._

"_Hagrid will take him here."_

"_Do you believe… it's rational… to trust Hagrid with something as important as this?"_

"_I would trust Hagrid with my life," said Dumbledore._

"_I don't say he's not a good person," said McGonagall reluctantly. "But you couldn't tell he isn't careless. He has the habit of… What was that?"_

_A deaf sound broke the silence that surrounded them. The sound started to increase in volume while they looked at both sides of the road, looking for a light. It got louder until it got up to a roar while the two of them looked up to the sky, and then a heavy motorcycle fell of the air and landed in the way, in front of them._

_The motorcycle was massive, but if you would compare it with the man who drove it, it looked like a toy. He was two times taller than a normal man and at least five times wider. You could say he was too big to accept him in society and, apart from that, he was too shabby… Black, long and tangled hair, and a beard that covered most of his face. His hands had the same size as bin lids and his feet wore leather boots, and looked like dolphin babies. In his big arms he carried a lump covered with sheets._

"_Hagrid," Dumbledore said, relieved. "Finally and where did you get that motorcycle?"_

"_I borrowed it, Professor Dumbledore," responded the giant, getting off the vehicle carefully while he spoke. "Young Sirius lent it to me. I brought the child."_

**Hagrid flew through the night to get baby Harry to Dumbledore, as instructed by the guy and apparently he is uncareful – if that's even a word – and was on the important job of taking the child to Dumbledore without any harm or intervention and everything… have I made it clear? But that's a boring story… for me of course – not for you. So:**

**What if… Hagrid had never come to number 4 in Privet Drive in the first place with the child Harry? What if he had an aerial accident and fallen from the sky while flying in the motorcycle?**

"_But how is the child going to get here, Dumbledore?" asked Professor McGonagall. Suddenly she observed the professor's cape, as if thinking he could have been hiding Harry under it._

"_Hagrid will take him here."_

"_Do you believe… it's rational… to trust Hagrid with something as important as this?"_

"_I would trust Hagrid with my life," said Dumbledore._

"_I don't say he's not a good person," said McGonagall reluctantly. "But you couldn't tell he isn't careless. He has the habit of…"_

_**But while they have the Hagrid conversation…**_

_Young Sirius had lent Hagrid his motorcycle, and Hagrid had never learnt to go on them, of course he was more of a guy who would be around in the wilderness, not with the technology of these days. Having this as a way of a shortcut to get to Dumbledore wasn't really a joy, but he needed to get baby Harry into safety as soon as possible._

_He hopped on the vehicle and kicked the lever for it to gear up. Then they were flying. He held the child in his arms amiable and warmly. He had likened children a lot, but because of his size never got to meet his true love._

_A clacking noise against the deaf sound of the motorcycle made him stop thinking and lose control of the vehicle, as it rebelled itself and started to shake around. The motorcycle started to fall down towards the ground rapidly._

_Hagrid tried to stop the vehicle: he pressed buttons, pulled the lever and kicked the lever, but nothing was worth. He knew he couldn't do anything. He was supposed to take the child into safety, not take him into another set of troubles. Hagrid felt guilty and as they fell, he held Harry in his big arms trying to protect him from the deadly crash…_

_Meanwhile, Professor McGonagall looked into the dark road as she sat down against the wall of Number 4 with Dumbledore at her side. She sighed impatiently._

"_So, when is Hagrid going to come, then?" she asked resentfully._

_To her annoyance, Dumbledore was in another world, as he played around with his lemon candy wrap._

"_You know, he should have been here by now."_

_Dumbledore raised a candy in front of her. "Lemon candy?"_

_She looked at him coldly, like she considered that this moment wasn't appropriate for candies, but took it anyway as a way to pass time. She unwrapped and sucked the candy in. Dumbledore raised his hand as if waiting for her to give him something and she reluctantly gave him the wrapper, with which Dumbledore passed his time observed it with great eagerness._

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A local farmer had seen the smoke from the crash when the noise had woken the baby up. His wife had gone off to the baby and tried to calm her down. She was just a couple of months old but was able to gather so much energy to shriek as loud as to wake up the whole world. That was when his wife called for him and got him to see what had happened there where the smoke came from.

The farmer went there to get all surprised as he saw a big hairy guy with a smoking motorcycle at his side. He felt for his heartbeat, but there wasn't any. He bowed his head in respect and was about to leave when he noticed a lump between the giant's arms. A lump with white sheets. He looked under the white sheets to see baby Harry.

His wife in the meantime was feeding the baby and held her in her arms affectionately. She heard the door open and turned her head to see her husband come into the house.

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Whether Harry survived the crash or not is up to you. He could have died in Hagrid's arms or he could have been found by the farmer and taken home.

**If he was taken home he would have lived a normal 'muggle' life and lived happily with the farmer's family. Harry might have discovered his magic powers or not. Dumbledore might have found out about Harry living with the farmer's family and sent him a letter of acceptance into the Hogwarts School of Magic and Wizardry. Maybe when he was an adult he would get married with the farmer's daughter.**

**There are a lot of things that could happen in this fate Harry has had, but the only good thing of this – if he ever survived – is that he would have been in a good welcoming warming and loving home.**

**Hope you liked the story! And please Review!**


	4. The Dursley Boy

1Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, Chapter 2

_**Disclaimer: **_**It's not mine – you know what I mean…**

_**Note from the Author: **_**The Harry Potter books I have – except the last one – are in Spanish, so the extracts aren't exactly like the real English book…**

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Approximately ten years had passed since the day when the Dursley had woken up and found their nephew at the door of their entrance, but Privet Drive hadn't really changed. The sun elevated over the same little gardens, illuminated the brass number 4 over the Dursley's door and advanced into their living room, that was nearly exactly the same as the one where Mr. Dursley had heard the ominous news about the owls, that night ten years ago. Only the pictures on the mantelpiece were testimony of how much time had passed. Ten years ago, there was a great amount of portraits of what looked like a great pink ball with caps of different colors, but Dudley Dursley was not a little child anymore, and in that moment the pictures showed a big blond boy riding his first bike, in a merry-go-round at the fair, playing with his dad at the computer, kissed and embraced by his mom... the room did not give signs that another boy lived there.

_However, Harry Potter was still there, sleeping at that instant, although he would be woken up in any moment now. His Aunt Petunia had woken up and her high-pitched voice was the first sound in the day._

"_Wake up! Get up! Now!"_

_Harry woke up startled. His aunt called at the door again._

"_Up you get!" she shouted again. Harry heard her step in direction to the kitchen. The boy turned around and tried to remember the dream he have had. It had been really nice. There was a motorcycle that could fly. He had the curious sensation that he had dreamt this previously._

_His aunt came back to the door._

"_Are you up already?" she wanted to know._

"_Nearly" replied Harry._

"_Well, get going, I want you to keep an eye on the bacon. And don't you dare let it burn. I want everything to be perfect on the birthday of my Duddy."_

_Harry groaned._

"_What did you say?" she yelled with rage from the other side of the door._

"_Nothing, nothing..."_

_Dudley's birthday... how could he ever forget? Harry got up slowly and started to look for his socks. He found a pair of them under his bed and, after taking a spider out of one of them, because the cupboard that was under the stairs was full of them, and there was where he slept._

_When he was dressed he got out to the corridor and entered the kitchen. The table was mostly covered with the birthday presents for Dudley. It seemed like Dudley was getting the new computer he wanted, not to mention the second TV and the racing bike. The exact reason for which Dudley would like to have a bike was a mystery to Harry, because Dudley was really fat and didn't like exercise, except if it involved punching someone, of course. Dudley's favorite boxing bag was Harry, but he usually couldn't catch him. Even if it didn't seem like it, Harry was really fast._

_Maybe it had something to do with living in the dark cupboard, but Harry had always been thin and too short for his age. Apart from that, he looked much tinier than what he really was, because all the clothing that he wore was Dudley's old clothes, and his cousin was four times bigger than he was. Harry had a thin face, bony legs, black hair and bright green eyes. He wore round glasses always stuck with sticky tape, consequence of all the times Dudley had hit him in the nose. The only thing that Harry likened was his peculiar little scar on his forehead, with the shape of a lightning flash. He had it since he could remember, and the first thing he could remember asking his Aunt Petunia was how he had it._

"_The car accident where your parents died," she had said. "And don't ask any more questions."_

'_Don't ask anymore questions': that was the first rule that he had to keep if he still wanted to live a calm life with the Dursley._

_Uncle Vernon entered the kitchen when Harry was turning the bacon around._

"_Brush your hair!" he barked as a morning greeting._

_Once every week, uncle Vernon would look over the newspaper and would shout that Harry needed a haircut. They had cut Harry's hair more times than any other kid in his class altogether, but it wasn't any use, because his hair kept on growing in the same manner, on every side. Harry was frying the eggs when Dudley came into the kitchen with his mother. Dudley looked very much like uncle Vernon. He had a big pink face, not much neck, and an abundant blond hair that covered his fat head. Aunt Petunia said occasionally that Dudley looked like a little angel. Harry said occasionally that Dudley looked like a pig with a wig._

_When he was little, Harry would dream time and time again that some unknown relative would come and get him out of there, but it never happened: the Dursley were the only family he had left. But sometimes he thought - maybe it was more of an idea - that there were strangers that behaved as if they knew him. They were really weird strangers. A man with a purple hat had greeted him, when he was shopping with aunt Petunia and Dudley. After asking him enraged if he knew that man, aunt Petunia would take them out of the shop without buying anything. An elderly woman with an extravagant look, wearing everything green, had greeted him too happily in a bus. A bold man, with a long coat, of a purplish color, had shook his hand in the streets and walked off without saying a word. What was the weirdest thing about all of those people was the way they seemed to disappear at the instant Harry tried to get near them._

_In school, Harry did not have any friends. Everyone knew that Dudley's group hated that strange Harry Potter, with his old clothes and his broken glasses, and no one liked to be against Dudley's band._

**Long boring beginning! Because I know every single one of you has already read that, and will never read it again, because it would be plagiarism to what J. K. Rowling has written.**

**But poor Harry! J. K. Rowling has tortured him with such fate. He is hated by his own uncle, aunt and cousin, who have his own bully bunch of friends who threaten anyone who tries to befriend Harry. But...**

**What if… Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia saw having Harry in the family as an opportunity to wipe out the Potter's existence by pretending Harry was their child? What if they treated him fairly and equally as Dudley?**

Approximately ten years had passed since the day when the Dursley had woken up and found their nephew at the door of their entrance, but Privet Drive hadn't really changed. The sun elevated over the same little gardens, illuminated the brass number 4 over the Dursley's door and advanced into their living room, that was nearly exactly the same as the one where Mr. Dursley had heard the ominous news about the owls, that night ten years ago. Only the pictures on the mantelpiece were testimony of how much time had passed. Ten years ago, there was a great amount of portraits of what looked like a great pink with caps of different colors, but Dudley Dursley was not a little child anymore, and in that moment the pictures showed a big blond boy riding his first bike, in a merry-go-round at the fair, playing with his dad at the computer, kissed and embraced by his mom… all accompanied by another thinner boy, who looked back at the camera and putting his arm around his cousin's shoulders.

Harry Potter had grown with the Dursley believing them to be his parents for the past ten years and was still there, sleeping in that instant. His 'mom' Petunia entered the room and her sweet motherly voice was the first sound of the day.

"Wake up, my little Harry."

Harry stirred in his sleep, turning around giving his back to his aunt without paying her mind. She shook him.

"Up you get," she sweetly repeated. Harry opened his eyes and saw his mom's loving face smiling back at him. He smiled back at her and tried to remember the dream he have had. It had been so absurd. There was a motorcycle that could fly. He had the curious sensation that he had dreamt this previously.

His mom caressed his cheek.

"How was your night?" she wanted to know.

"Pretty weird," replied Harry.

"Well, we better get going, we need to prepare breakfast. We're having bacon today. I need you to help me keep an eye on it. I want everything perfect on the birthday of your brother."

Harry nodded.

"Ready to go down to the kitchen?" she asked as she got out of the room.

"Nearly…"

Dudley's birthday… how could he ever forget? Harry got up rapidly and started to change. He got out of his pajamas and pulled on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt from the floor, because the room was really messy: all clothes on the floor, posters of his favorite football team all in a pile on a corner in wait to be hanged on the wall, his bed unmade. That was his bedroom.

When he was dressed he got down the stairs to the corridor and entered the kitchen. The table was mostly covered with the birthday presents for Dudley. It seemed like Dudley was getting the new computer he wanted, not to mention the second TV and the racing bike. The exact reason for which Dudley would like to have a bike was a mystery to Harry, because Dudley was really fat and didn't like exercise, except if it involved punching someone, of course. Harry was the one who would run to catch the victim for Dudley and their friends, because he was the only boy in the group who made any exercise at all. Even if it didn't seem like it, Harry was really fast.

Maybe it skipped a generation, to have an athlete in the family, and Harry had always been thin and short for his age. He thought it came from his mother's side of the family – Petunia's side – now that his mom was thin like him. Harry had a thin face, bony legs, black hair and bright green eyes. He wore black framed round glasses. The only thing that Harry hated was his peculiar little scar, with the shape of a lightning flash. He had it since he could remember, and the first thing he could remember asking his mom was how he had it.

"It's a birth mark," she had said uncomfortably. "Don't ask that again."

'Don't ask that again': that was a rule for him, and he kept it because he knew it made his mom upset to remember about that birth mark.

'Dad' Vernon entered the kitchen when Harry was turning the bacon around.

He patted his head amiably as a morning greeting.

Everyday his dad would never look at him in the eye but would always pat him in the head as an affectionate gesture. Harry knew though, that his dad did love him, because he would nod at him as a gesture of his love for him. Harry was frying the eggs when Dudley came into the kitchen with their mom. Dudley looked very much like dad. He had a big pink face, not much neck, and an abundant blond hair that covered his fat head. Mom said occasionally that Dudley looked like a little angel. Harry said to himself occasionally that Dudley looked like a pig with a wig.

Even though he hanged around Dudley around, but he didn't like him that much, he was a conceited spoilt pig, but it didn't matter: the Dursley were the only family he would love. But sometimes he thought – maybe it was more of an idea – that there were strangers that behaved as if they knew him. They were really weird strangers. A man with a purple hat had greeted him, when he was shopping with mom and Dudley. After asking him upset if he knew the man, mom would take them out of the shop away from the man without buying anything. An elderly woman with an extravagant look, wearing everything green, had greeted him too happily in a bus. A bold man, with a long coat, of a purplish color, had shook his hand in the streets and walked off without saying a word. He thought them odd, and he didn't care much about why they would do that. Mom and dad would just ignore them and look at them down, and he would do just that.

In school, Harry did not have any friends. He said this because he didn't consider Dudley's group to be his friends, he was only Dudley's henchman. Harry Potter, Dudley's henchman, the fast boy who would run to get a victim for him. But no one liked to be against Dudley's band, and less did Harry like that.

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Because Harry was with the Dursley for a long time, he believes all the magic thing and impossible things absurd, and when he is sent the letter, he opens it when no one is looking, but thinks it's just a joke from his 'friends'. He doesn't learn in Hogwarts and then Voldemort takes over the world. A bit of a cliché, but it is something that could have happened. But he is still a good boy in the inside, because it's in his real mom's side of the family – even though Petunia is in her family.

**I'm waiting for more reviews! Hope you're liking the files so far!**


	5. No more Letters

Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, Chapter 4

_**Disclaimer:**_** J. K. Rowling owns the Harry Potter series.**

_**Note from the Author: **_**The Harry Potter books I have – except the last one – are in Spanish, so the extracts aren't exactly like the real English book…**

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As night fell, the promised storm exploded over them. The foam from the high waves collided with the walls of the hut and the fierce wind hit the glass of the windows. Aunt Petunia found a couple of sheets in the other room and prepared a bed for Dudley in the sofa. Uncle Vernon and she slept in a bed near the door, and Harry had to satisfy himself with a section of the ground and cover himself with the thinnest sheet.

_The storm increased in ferocity during the night. Harry couldn't sleep. He was cold and very uncomfortable and his stomach roared with hunger. Dudley's snores where camouflaged by the lightning that exploded that midnight. The illuminating watch of Dudley's, hanging from his fat wrist, informed Harry that he would be eleven years old in ten minutes. He waited lying down for the time of his birthday to come, wondering if the Dursley would remember and asking himself where the writer of those letters would be._

_Five minutes. Harry heard something crunching outside. He hoped that roof wouldn't fall, even if it made it warmer if that happened. Four minutes. Maybe the house in Privet Drive was full of letters, when they returned, that he would be able to steal one._

_Three minutes for the time. Why would the sea hit so hard at the rocks? And – two minutes left – what was that weird noise outside? Were the rocks braking in the middle of the sea?_

_One minute and he would be eleven years old. Thirty seconds… twenty… ten… nine… maybe he would wake Dudley up, just to annoy him… three… two… one…_

_BOOM._

_The whole hut shook and Harry looked straight at the door. Someone was outside, calling._

_BOOM. They called again. Dudley woke up brutally._

"_Where's the canon?" he asked stupidly._

_A crunching noise could be heard behind them and uncle Vernon appeared from the room. He had a rifle in his hands._

"_Who's there?" he shouted. "I warn you… I'm armed!"_

_There was a pause. Then…_

_A VIOLENT BLOW!_

_The door was pushed with such great force that it fell out of its doorframe._

_A gigantic man appeared in the edge. His face was practically hidden by a long pompom of hair and a beard, but you could see in his eyes, which h shone like black cockroaches._

_The giant entered bowing his head, which touched the ceiling. He crouched down, took the door and, with no effort, returned it to its original place. The sound of the storm was gone in a moment. He turned to look at them._

"_We could prepare a tea. It wasn't an easy trip…" Hagrid said in an amiable tone._

**Hagrid to rescue Harry from his horrible uncle, aunt and… Dudley… But…**

**What if... Hagrid didn't make it to the rock in the middle of the sea, where Harry and company were hiding from the letter writer?**

_As night fell, the promised storm exploded over them. The foam from the high waves collided with the walls of the hut and the fierce wind hit the glass of the windows. Aunt Petunia found a couple of sheets in the other room and prepared a bed for Dudley in the sofa. Uncle Vernon and she slept in a bed near the door, and Harry had to satisfy himself with a section of the ground and cover himself with the thinnest sheet._

_The storm increased in ferocity during the night. Harry couldn't sleep. He was cold and very uncomfortable and his stomach roared with hunger. Dudley's snores where camouflaged by the lightning that exploded that midnight. The illuminating watch of Dudley's, hanging from his fat wrist, informed Harry that he would be eleven years old in ten minutes. He waited lying down for the time of his birthday to come, wondering if the Dursley would remember and asking himself where the writer of those letters would be._

_Five minutes. Harry heard something crunching outside. He hoped that roof wouldn't fall, even if it made it warmer if that happened. Four minutes. Maybe the house in Privet Drive was full of letters, when they returned, that he would be able to steal one._

_Three minutes for the time. Why would the sea hit so hard at the rocks? And – two minutes left – what was that weird noise outside? Were the rocks braking in the middle of the sea?_

_One minute and he would be eleven years old. Thirty seconds… twenty… ten… nine… maybe he would wake Dudley up, just to annoy him… three… two… one…_

_Harry sighed as he watched the numbers on Dudley's watch change from 23:59 to 00:00. He smiled to himself._

"_Happy birthday, Harry."_

_**Some minutes ago…**_

The tide was very high and it waved with great ferocity as Hagrid tried to fly over the sea towards the hut on the rock in the water near the coast. It wasn't really easy, even if he was using magic. The storm had reached its peak point, trying to stop him from getting to Harry Potter. He wondered how he could look like after eleven years. He could just remember as if it had been yesterday when he held the little bump covered in those sheets, when he took him from the ruins of his parents' house. But as he kept on, the storm made him wonder if he would ever or even get there in time before he was hit by a lightning strike or…

Then he fell into the sea, and as the tide took him away, he drowned with the only thoughts of poor Harry in his mind.

_**The next day…**_

Uncle Vernon had woken them all up very early in the morning. He was in a great mood, as no letters had come neither yesterday, nor during the night or that morning. He had gotten them out of the hut as soon as they were all fully awake and made Harry to row them on the boat back to the shores.

As soon as they got to firm ground, Dudley jumped out of the boat and began kissing the ground in excitement and grateful that that day and night were over. Harry wasn't so happy, and you may guess why…

Uncle Vernon bought them breakfast: hamburgers from MacDonald's, which surprisingly one was given to Harry by a very joyful Uncle Vernon. Even though neither Uncle Vernon nor any of the rest of the family remembered of Harry's birthday, Harry took it as his first ever Happy Birthday gift given by his uncle, and the best gift he'd ever had.

But when they drove home it wasn't as fine as he had expected it would be. Things were too good to last – and this was one of the few times of the good moments that didn't last that long. When they got home Harry saw uncle Vernon's face whiten from the rear view mirror. And when Harry looked over in front of them at number 4 in Privet Drive his heart started pounding rapidly without stop with thrill.

The closed windows with the curtains open showed the whole rooms – every single room – of the house filled with letters for Harry, pressuring the glass that would make all the windows pop out at once. The letter box was broken and letters dispersed across the front garden waiting for someone to take them.

Uncle Vernon went from white to red as a tomato and got out of the car. Harry tried to get out but Petunia and Dudley – who sat at the back seat with him – restraint him from going anywhere. Uncle Vernon looked at his house with rage and fury. No one knew what was going through his mind, but what was to do next wasn't as expected as anyone would have imagined. Vernon took a lighter from his coat's pocket and lit a fire throwing it to his home, which burst out on fire after moments.

Petunia looked at her flaming home staggered. Dudley started to cry asking for his TV and computer and games… And Harry watched as his letters burnt with the house, thinking if he would ever get a letter from anyone ever again…

Uncle Vernon entered the car and got the engine working. He looked behind him, ignored his crying family and looked right at Harry, who looked back at him with wrath. Uncle Vernon opened his mouth.

"No one's going to write to you," he murmured and he exaggerated the next two words: "ever again."

Then, uncle Vernon drove them away, as he heard the ambulance come in from behind them.

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Not a very happy ending for anyone. On Harry's own birthday Hagrid dies and doesn't get to see Harry to tell him all the truth about his parents and who he is and about his acceptance in the School of Hogwarts of Witchcraft and Wizardry. On Harry's own birthday Petunia, Dudley and even Harry lose their home, as it is burnt by uncle Vernon's own hands. On Harry's own birthday… it is when everything goes wrong and destroys Petunia's, Dudley's, Vernon's and Harry's world.

**Hope you liked this story – even though it is a bit dark.**

**Waiting for more reviews!**


	6. Malfoy's Offer

Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, Chapter 6

_**Disclaimer: **_**I don't own Harry Potter even if I wanted to.**

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Three boys entered their train compartment, and Harry recognized the one in the middle immediately: he was the pale boy from Madame Malkin's tunic shop. He looked at Harry with interest than he had shown in Diagon Alley.

"_Is it true?" he asked. "Around the entire train they keep on saying that Harry Potter is in this compartment. So it's you, aren't you?"_

"_Yes," Harry replied. He observed the other boys. Both of them were well-built and looked very vulgar. They were at either side of the pale boy and looked like bodyguards._

"_Oh, this is Crabbe and this is Goyle," said the pale boy with unconcern, when he noticed Harry was looking at them. "And my name is Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."_

_Ron let a weak cough escape, which would be hiding a little laugh. Draco (dragon) Malfoy looked at him._

"_You think my name is funny, no? I don't need to ask who you are. My father told me all about your family, Weasley: red haired, freckled and with too many children to maintain."_

_He turned back to Harry._

"_Soon you'll find out that some families of wizards are better than others, Potter. You don't want to be friends with the wrong class. I can help you with that."_

_He offered his hand, to shake Harry's, but Harry didn't accept it._

"_I think I can tell who are the wrong people alone, thank you" he said coldly._

_Draco Malfoy blushed._

"_I would be careful, if I were you, Potter," Malfoy said calmly. "Unless you become nicer, you'll go through the same path as your parents. They didn't know what was good for them either. You hang around people like the Weasley and that Hagrid and you'll end up like them."_

_Harry and Ron got up at the same time. Ron's face was as red as his hair._

"_Repeat that," he said._

"_Oh, are you going to fight us, uh?" Malfoy teased._

"_If you don't go in this instant…" said Harry, with more courage than he felt, because Crabbe and Goyle were stronger than Ron and him._

"_But we don't feel like going away, isn't that right, guys? We haven't eaten everything we had and you seemed that you still had something."_

_Goyle inclined to get a chocolate frog beside Ron. The red haired boy jumped towards him, but before he could touch Goyle, the boy let a terrible moan escape._

_Scabbers, the rat, hanged from Goyle's finger, with its sharp teeth pinned deeply into his knuckles. Crabbe and Malfoy stepped back while Goyle shook his hand to get rid of the rat, screaming in pain, until, finally, Scabbers went flying, crashed against the window and the three boys disappeared._

**Harry, such a loyal boy towards his friend Ron, even though he had been given the chance to be with people from the 'higher classes'. Malfoy is one of my ****favourite characters, because he's one of the bad guys. But then everyone likes to have bad guys in a story, because if there wasn't then it wouldn't be really a story. But…**

**What if… Harry thought Malfoy seemed a very cool person and Harry decided to make acquaintances with him? What if instead of making Malfoy his enemy he instead became… his best friend?**

_Malfoy turned back at Harry after he snapped at Ron's hidden laugh._

"_Soon you'll find out that some families of wizards are better than others, Potter. You don't want to be friends with the wrong class. I can help you with that."_

_He offered his hand to shake Harry's, but Harry didn't accept it._

"_I think I can tell who are the wrong people alone, thank you" he said coldly._

_Draco Malfoy blushed._

"_I would be careful, if I were you, Potter," Malfoy said calmly. "Unless you become nicer, you'll go through the same path as your parents. They didn't know what was good for them either. You hang around people like the Weasley and that Hagrid and you'll end up like them."_

_Ron got up, his face as red as his own hair, but Harry pulled him down to sit down again._

"_What?" Ron asked, enraged._

_Harry had taken Malfoy's words in and had reached a conclusion he didn't even know he would reach: he didn't want to end up like his parents. He knew it was kind of being a coward, but he knew he didn't want to die. No one wanted to and less did him. It was hard enough to have your own parents dead, and hard enough to have so many people know you for something you didn't even remember you had done, hard enough to have a dark evil lord out there, waiting for his time to rise up and come to find you and kill you. Of course he didn't want to end up like his parents._

_Harry stood up, as Malfoy watching Harry's every move very carefully._

"_I don't want to end up like my parents," he said firmly._

_Malfoy smiled with satisfaction. "Good stuff," he said. He turned around and exited the compartment into the corridor, making room for Harry to get out._

_Harry stepped towards them with hesitation and Ron stood up grabbing Harry's arm, pleading him to stay. Harry didn't look back at Ron, because he didn't mind him. He just wanted to be safe. Harry pulled his arm away from Ron. He walked out of the compartment, with Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle by his side._

_Ron looked at the open door, where he had been left, as the four boys disappeared._

_**Three years later…**_

Harry walked through the dark marble corridors with the feeling of fear in his stomach for the first time in his three years after he had discovered he was a wizard. He wasn't sure why he had gotten to this point and he couldn't even remember how and when he had gotten so out of control.

All the things that had been happening to him were getting too much into his head. Since he had joined Malfoy's gang he had been part of they bully policy bit, and their usual target was the Longbottom kid. Since he was friends with Malfoy he had been the best student and the most popular in the whole school. Since he had been with Malfoy all his worries of ending up like his parents had gone and the Slytherin people had been very polite towards him in taking good care of him. But all his problems came back when he was sent the letter to go to court for apparently using magic out of school.

He didn't use any magic… well, maybe a little to annoy his cousin… well… maybe more than a little to harm his cousin… well… … maybe to get rid of his cousin entirely, but it hadn't been his fault! Dudley was being such a pig: he was nosing up in his room, he was trying to know what he was doing, he annoyed him with stupid jokes about magic, he would always try to shoot his owl with his stupid hunting toy, he was always every day, every hour, every minute, every second trying to annoy Harry with anything that he came up to. And Harry was so tired that… he just couldn't resist using that spell the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher had made them study.

It was just a little bit of practice… it couldn't have harmed him so much. Dudley was just pretending… but then he wouldn't move… and then… he was cold… he was all paralysed… he was dead.

Now the High Court waited for him to give him his sentence. He was expecting they wouldn't do any harm to him, now that he was the Boy Who Lived, and he was really important. They couldn't… they wouldn't harm him… surely…

Malfoy had given his back to him when he heard of Harry killing a muggle. He did enjoy annoying muggles and mudbloods, but because Harry was taken to court he didn't want to have anything to do with him, and when Malfoy turned his back to someone, so did the rest of the gang. So Harry was all alone. He had tried to plead Malfoy's dad, Lucius, to help him out of this, as he had been a fatherly figure to him, but Lucius didn't care, he was infuriated, he didn't want to have anything to do with him either.

So, as Harry entered the High Court by himself with no one by his side or anyone that would understand or believe his reasons to have done this, he wished he had gone to Dumbledore's office more often when Dumbledore asked for him to get away from the influence Malfoy had given him.

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God! Harry became the number 1 bad kid in the school! And I can't believe it! He killed Dudley! Of course, uncle Vernon and aunt Petunia were sobbing and weeping over him and it would never be the same for those two. Even though they were unfair with Harry no one deserves that kind of thing to happen to them. Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle… they were such good friends to Harry (sarcastically) giving him their backs after what had happened instead of defending him, like good friends would do.

**You can make up yourselves the ending – either Harry was expelled from Hogwarts as well as sent to Azkaban or he was let in the school because he is famous and important in history.**

**Maybe later on he would choose to go to Voldermort's side, like Malfoy would, and he could have dominated the world along side him.**

**Well, who knows? The only thing I hope is that you enjoyed reading this story. Review and give me feedback please! And I'll be updating as soon as I can!**


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